All participants are over the age of 18 years old prior to any sex scenes.
I seemed to have it all at one point. I grew up in a small town, the only daughter of a non-denominational church pastor. I was spoiled. No doubt about it. I easily fulfilled the ideals that my parents expected. I sang in church. Played the piano. Prayed at the altar when my dad called for prayer. I was an example to my classmates. I was smart and made all A's in school. My parents expected me to go to the nearest church supported college when I graduated from high school. I had a bout with rheumatic fever when I was in third grade. I missed so much school that my parents and the teachers decided that I would just repeat the grade and move forward. It was a small school and everyone seemed to be in favor of that decision. Being the model kid that I was, I always accepted the authority and decisions of my elders. My parents were so proud of me and my dad talked about me in his sermons way too much. I didn't mind that when I was very young but during puberty I began to be embarrassed when he did that.
Puberty. The plague for good little girls. It was awkward for me. Neither of my parents are tall but I started growing up at first and then out. They traced it back to my maternal grandfather who was 6'4". I wasn't that tall. I topped out at 5'-9". I was taller than everyone in my class at that point. Then my hips flared nicely and my boobs started growing. I finally reached a full C cup. What I kept hidden from everyone was that my areolas were three inches wide and my nipples were little nubs that aggravated me. I wore thicker bras to keep the hard nipples from showing. I thanked god that we didn't have swimming in my high school. I would never have gotten into a speedo. During gym classes, I folded up some tissue paper and placed it inside my sports bra to hide the pesky protrusions. It was only later that I found out that sexual excitement made my areolas puffy and my nipples as hard as pencil erasers.
As I filled out, most of my female classmates were also developing. I seemed to be a bit ahead of the average girls. Not that there weren't some other above average girls. I remember a girl one year younger than me named Beverly. She developed a set of breasts that were the envy of every girl in school. The older boys tried to date her but her parents wouldn't let her. Her boobs grew so big that she became embarrassed by all the kidding. I felt sorry for her. I don't know exactly how big she was but I guessed that she might wear a G cup. Yeah, that big. And she wasn't fat. She was solid and played all the sports offered by the school. She was probably the best athlete in the school.
The boys were left far behind. In retrospect, I think that is why women tend to marry men who are older than they are. I don't mean May-September. Just, I notice things like that. Most of my girlfriends married guys on the average two years older than them. Seems to make sense that male puberty is about two years behind. I guess we grow up attracted to boys who seem to match us in maturation level.
So, I was pretty much the perfect physical specimen. However, I didn't play sports. I just did gym class. My parents were more into introducing me to the arts and pointing me toward college where I could meet and marry a nice divinity student and become a great pastor's wife like my mom.
The only problem with that was that as I progressed through high school, I became silently resentful of all the expectations. I had grown up so repressed that I was forced to shun the appearance of evil. My folks often railed about the behavior of the youth in our little town. They even looked down on some of the kids in our little church as being too 'worldly'. This was a topic I heard over and over at the dinner table where they both blessed me for being so 'godly'.
I only had one classmate who was in our church. Cynthia. She was the daughter of a pharmacist who worked in a larger town nearby. Her mother was basically the 'devoted' church member and her father came also but didn't participate much in the business of the church. I suspected that he followed his wife mostly and thought it was better to go along to get along. Cynthia favored her father more than her mom. She was slimmer than her mom, much more like her dad. She was pretty but had a little trouble with adolescent acne. She probably wore a little too much makeup for that reason. She was like an A cup but it didn't seem to bother her. Cyn was a little less holy than her mother. I think she agreed with her father's way of pleasing her mom. Not that she was disruptive. It was just that she talked to adults in the church in one fashion and to our schoolmates in another fashion. On the whole, she could easily float each social dynamic to her advantage.
I wouldn't say that Cyn was the reason why I began questioning my straight and narrow upbringing. I think that was more my realizing how confining the religious expectations were on the pastor and his family. We socialized mostly with other pastors and their families. At least the pastors who didn't condemn non-denominational churches. See, in small towns, you wore the identity of your religious affiliation. I'm sure that's why most people in town identified with some church. If they didn't, every pastor in the county would be knocking on their doors trying to save their souls.
For my part, I began longing for a more diversified social platform. It just wasn't going to happen while I was in high school. Plus, my parents had already picked my college and my dad got a discount on tuition being a member of the clergy. I didn't look forward to college any more than I did remaining the 'perfect little girl'. I would listen in school as we got older. Usually, the juicy conversations were kept away from girls like me but occasionally I would hear some girls talking about boys and sex. I had to move away if I felt like they might think I was curious. Nevertheless, I was intrigued about sex.
I turned eighteen over the summer before my senior year. The repeat of a grade made me almost a year older that most of my classmates. I had been out with boys at school sponsored activities. What my parents would call a date. However, there was no unsupervised time to get acquainted with boys because any hint of objectionable behavior would have the church elders and their wives calling my dad to complain. Since the church was our livelihood, the whole family was always under a microscope.
That summer I was working at a hardware store next door to a tire shop. That is how I met Bryan. Sometimes I would meet Cyn for lunch. We would take our sack lunches out under a shade tree and eat while we gossiped. Cyn knew the pressure I was under to be so perfect and provided somewhat of an outlet for sharing our thoughts. She was about to turn eighteen before school started and we talked about what we heard some of the looser girls talk about. We also talked about boys even though most of what we considered the 'hot' boys were out of high school. We unabashedly criticized our teachers and other girls we didn't like.
One day I mentioned Beverly, the best athlete in school.
Cyn caustically remarked, "I don't see how that fat cow could be that athletic. I guess she is a lesbian."
"What a nasty thing to say, Cyn. I have talked to her a lot. She is sweet. Yeah, she had huge breasts but she also loathes that boys and men make lewd suggestions to her. She even told me that she wants to get her breasts reduced in size."
"Well, she can will some of that boob fat to me, then." Cyn snickered and we both burst out laughing.
"Not that you need any, Lynette. Yeah, I guess that was just jealousy. How can one girl get so much boob and I am almost flat."
"You're not flat, Cyn." I encouraged.
